History
by rdixon571
Summary: Draco and Hermione are paired together as Head Boy and Head Girl. Can they get past their complicated histories, learn to work together, pass their NEWTS and prevent everything else from falling into chaos? Probably not, but Hermione won't take failure as an option and Draco is trying to rediscover who he is and who he wants to be. Slow burn. DM & HG POV's. Future lemons & smut ;-*
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** _This is my first shot at writing fanfiction. I started one chapter, gosh…. Maybe 3 months ago? 4? I don't remember. Anyway, I decided to try to continue the story so I posted it. But after realizing that my original first chapter was nothing like what I wanted my new story to be, I started over. I kept some concepts, ideas, sentences,_ _paragraphs_ _… But the entire mood is different. If you read the old one, I apologize. I probably won't continue that "_ _mood_ _." I intend this one to be more of a slow burn with_ _some_ _lemony, smutty goodness._ _Also, th_ _ere might_ _be swearing. Cuz I swear, damnit._

 _We are post-war. Everyone is returning to restart and finish their final year at Hogwarts._

 _And of course, the obligatory disclaimer: I don't own the characters or make any royalties from this story. That's all for JK Rowling._

Draco was not looking forward to another year at Hogwarts. His last year at Hogwarts. The war was over and he had spent his Summer on house arrest at the Manor with his mother. That didn't stop Narcissa from throwing a couple grand house parties. His mother decided it was a good idea to continue as if they had _not_ narrowly escaped prison sentence in Azkaban. And Draco was in no mood to deny his mother anything.

Walking through the crowd on the platform was easy. Parents and students alike skittered away and gave him a wide berth; whispering and braving glances at him when they thought he wouldn't see. Draco swaggered through the crowd, eyes heavy-lidded and focused on looking _through_ people instead of _at_ them, his mouth twitching up at the corner in a signature smirk. Heading towards the last few rail cars, the surrounding witches and wizards reluctantly returned to their own affairs. With everyone back to their own business, Draco slid behind a column, melting into the cool shadows, and observed.

Hermione pulled on the sleeves of her jumper as she waited for her friends. Classmates ambled by, offering warm smiles. One second-year boy pointed while his parents desperately tried to scold him for the gesture. Another wizard was wringing his hands and staring. "She won't remember you, Phinneus. Leave her alone, you're embarrassing me," his wife said, grabbing one of his hands. Hermione let her eyes glaze over and turned, hoping to catch sight of Harry or Ginny or Neville. Even Ron. Anyone, really. Anyone so she didn't have to stand here alone with all of this unwanted attention.

A crowd started to gather a few cars down. Excited murmurs and heads turned away as camera flashes indicated that Harry Potter must have arrived. Outside the swarm of witches and wizards buzzing around her best friend, a group of red heads ambled towards her. The Weasleys. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny, all grinning ear to ear, freckles and all. Ginny broke into a run and took Hermione off her feet in a bone-crushing hug.

"We missed having you at the Burrow," Ginny scolded her friend. "It wasn't the same without you. We had to rock-paper-scissors who would have to sit next to Percy every night and Ron has been a complete git."

"Ginerva Weasley!" Molly Weasley exclaimed.

"Oi! I have not," said Ron, turning red. "Just because I didn't want to be subjected to you two _canoodling_ all the time!"

"If you're done wallowing in self-pity, Ron," Ginny continued, wrapping her arm around Hermione's, "we'll see you on the platform."

Leaving a furious Ron and amused Harry behind, Ginny pulled Hermione through the crowd. Several classmates called to them but Hermione could only wave and call back "Hi's" and "See you later's" until her friend determinedly pulled her onto a car towards the back of the train.

The compartment was empty apart from Luna Lovegood. Already in her class robes, Luna sported her usual radish earrings and a large waxy green medallion on her lapel with several small eye balls poking out of it.

"Good lord Luna, what _is_ that?" Ginny cried, stopping dead in the doorway. The little eyeballs rolled around in their sockets as Luna looked up from the latest edition of The Quibbler.

"Oh! This is an *Illyrian Lotus seed pod. They attract batterflies," Luna stated, looking up from her reading.

"Butterflies?" Ginny asked.

"Batterflies," Luna repeated. "They like to eat the seeds. Their droppings are useful in certain sleeping droughts. To help give pleasant dreams, you know."

Convinced at least that it wasn't going to jump off Luna's robes and bite her, Ginny plopped down across from Luna, next to Hermione, one leg crossed underneath her. "So tell me. What happened?" Ginny directed to Hermione.

The compartment next to Granger and Weaslette contained several second years. Draco sat down near the door and picked at his nails a few seconds before slowly raising his eyes to the two boys across from him. The three girls were the first to move, the boys quickly following as they all scurried out of the compartment, leaving Draco alone.

Satisfied, Draco pulled an ear out of his pocket. A fleshy cord connected it to another ear he had inconspicuously dropped inside the compartment next door while the Weasley girl had stood in the doorway. It was too easy. Now all he had to do was sit back, relax, and wait for some juicy blackmail-worthy details to pop up. Pottyhead and Weaslebum would surely be along soon too. Four for the price of one! Well, five, if you counted the loony.

–

It felt like hours had gone by. Potter and Weasley never showed and all Malfoy managed to glean was that goody-good Granger had dumped Weaslebum. Apparently it had been suggested that Granger join the favored career track adopted by Potter and Weaslebum, to become an Auror – to keep the Golden Trio alive, no doubt. But before Granger could decline, Weaslebum claimed it too dangerous for the witch and that she had no business working in a man's world. Weaslebum had even asked Granger why she wanted to work at all when she would surely want to stay home and take care of their household full of hypothetical future Weasley brats.

Furious that Weasley had seemingly planned out her future for the next 25 years without reference to her own wishes, weeks of arguments has ensued, followed by another week of the silent treatment, leading to the evident demise of the Weasley-Granger relationship.

Draco had to admit, even _he_ thought Weasley was stark out of line. That is, if he pretended to care. Which he didn't.

Frustrated that he didn't get any information worthy of his time, Draco threw the extendable ear at the window. Forgetting it was attached, the fleshy cord stretched and snapped the ear back, hitting Draco in the forehead with a _thwack_ , before bouncing back into his lap. With a scowl, Draco pulled out his wand with the intention to set the ear on fire, but hesitated. After a long pause, Draco put his wand away in his breast pocket. Probably not the best idea to set the train ablaze before the school year even began. He needed this.

 **Author's Note:** _I hope that's much better than my first attempt at chapter 1._

 _The Illyrian name was borrowed from one of my very favorite books, A Court of Mist and Fury by the one and only, Queen Sarah J Maas. If you like epic fantasy, check out her two series, Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses. An Illyrian Lotus pod does not exist, to my knowledge. But Illyrian wing spans are rumored to correspond to the length of another male body part. Pleasant dreams in a sleeping drought? Get it? Get it? Ahhhhh, I crack myself up._

 _Anyways, feel free to leave a review or advice or ideas or whatever. ;-*_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

With the sorting finished and start-of-year announcements complete, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and food of all kinds appeared on the long table in front of him. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini started scooping helpings onto their plates while Draco watched a bushy-haired Granger across the hall roll her eyes at her friends and turn to talk to the young Weaslette. A shiny new Head Girl badge glinted on her robes.

 _Fuck._

"What is it that you find so fascinating, Malfoy?" Nott teased between mouthfuls. "Has the Weasley witch got your panties in a bundle?"

"Your father would be so proud if you brought the little blood traitor home to dinner," Blaise scoffed.

Nott shrugged. "Say what you like. She's got a nice arse. I'd take a fistful of her hair any day."

Thinking it best to ignore the conversation altogether, Malfoy helped himself to mashed potatoes, turkey and cranberry sauce while Blaise and Nott discussed if they thought the carpet matched the curtains. Declining to answer, Malfoy pushed food around on the plate before scooping some up on his fork. It vaguely reminded him of congealed blood on a white marble floor. The cranberry sauce wobbled in a gelatinous blob on his fork, frozen in midair.

Slowly, with barely a clink of the silver, Malfoy set his fork on the plate. "You two disgust me," He sneered. "I can't stomach anything if I'm going to forced to listen to this pathetic drivel." Pushing up from the table, Malfoy stepped back over the bench seat. "If I wanted to be surrounded by morons while I eat, I'd sit with the Hufflepuffs."

Back straight, Malfoy turned and walked down the length of the tables, out of Great Hall in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Eyes straight ahead and hands shaking, Draco walked straight past classrooms and a storage closet then turned a quick left and stalked out of sight.

"Prude," muttered Blaise to his plate.

Theo grunted some kind of consent but said nothing more as he watched his friend slip around the corner. Not in the direction of the dungeons.

Ginny and Harry had started to make eyes at each other over dessert and Ron was still stuffing his face, avoiding Hermione's gaze. Deflated, Hermione stood.

Having realized their silent conversation had not been as secret as he would have liked, Harry looked sheepishly at his plate. "Heading back to the common room, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I think I'll head to the library first. There's a topic I wanted to look into for my History of Magic paper," said Hermione, throwing her friend a smile. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

Mouth hanging open mid-chew, Ron's face blanched. "We have a History of Magic paper?! Since when?"

Walking out of the Great Hall was a relief as she headed towards the library. The awkward silence and lack of conversation in the middle of a crowded and chaotic Great Hall was torture compared to the peaceful silence of the library. Or even of this empty hallway.

Or nearly empty. Slowing her pace, Hermione saw a figure sitting hunched on the floor outside the library. Hair on her arms raised, Hermione's hand was in her robes, grabbing for her wand before she remembered she was in the relative safety of Hogwarts. Not running from Death Eaters. Another three steps revealed white hair under the hood that could only be Malfoy's. _Death Eaters, indeed._

A ghost of a gasp escaped her lips as she quickly snapped her attention straight forward. Clenching her wand in one hand and the hem of her sleeve in the other, Hermione lengthened her stride. She was almost through the library doors when a cool voice drawled from the floor. "Going to walk right by me, Granger? Don't you know it's considered rude to ignore your fellow peers?"

Hermione stopped dead. There are not many things Malfoy could say that would make her stop. She was determined to pretend he didn't exist this year. But his words gave her pause. "What the hell are you talking about, _Malfoy?_ " Still looking straight forward into the depths of the empty library, Hermione stood in the middle of the door frame. The last time she had seen him was at the battle of Hogwarts. And before that, she was lying on the marble floor of his manor being tortured and mutilated by his deranged aunt.

She felt Draco quietly rise from the floor. He lazily brushed himself off and pushed closer to her. "I just thought you'd at least acknowledge me," he whispered and took a step back. "Since we're supposed to be partners and all."

"I don't have time for stupid games, _Malfoy,"_ she spat. "What the hell are you talking about? Or maybe you just like to skulk outside libraries and whisper sweet nothings into unsuspecting ears as a hobby now?"

Hermione gave herself a half second to compose herself and keep her other hand from shaking before turning to face a boy that had graced her nightmares for the last several years.

Her contempt faltered a fraction as she took in the hollow cheeks and sunken eyes staring back at her. His signature silver white hair, which was always shiny and slicked back, was now dull and hung loosely in his face.

Draco looked down and Hermione's gaze lowered with his to see a badge resting in his pale, outstretched palm. Not just any badge. A _Head Boy_ badge.

Hermione's stomach dropped to the floor. Any blood left in her face plummeted to her legs, willing her to run but her mind was sluggish. Frozen, Hermione stared at the badge in horror.

 _No._

"You stole that from Ernie Macmillan, didn't you?" Hermione demanded.

"What? Oh right." Malfoy took a step back. "As if there's anything that Ernie Macmillan has that I could possibly want! Why would I steal a Head Boy badge?" Malfoy demanded. "Why would I want to be Head Boy next to Golden Girl Granger."

Hermione had to admit, it did seem strange. But even more strange that Malfoy could actually be Head Boy. _Still..._

"You expect me to believe they chose a Death Eater as Head Boy, Malfoy?" she spat. "You've taken one too many bludgers to the head. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Stealing her strength from the doorway, Hermione marched on into the library.

Determined to finish her History of Magic paper, Hermione stalked to a table toward the back of the library. She wanted no distractions and surely no one would wander this deep into the stacks. Throwing her bag down on the table, a muffled "shhh!" same from somewhere beyond the rows of books.

"Hmph." As if she was disturbing anyone in the library on the first day back to Hogwarts.

Leaving her bag at the table, Hermione made her way to the History section. A great resource, if a bit underused.

Slowly grazing her fingers along the worn leather bindings, Hermione closed her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath. Then another.

Old parchment. Cracked leather. Musk. It melted her soul.

Heartbeat returning to normal, Hermione paused in front of a promising group of books.

Picking four to start, Hermione returned to her table and pulled the largest book forward. With the feather of her quill between her lips, she began to read.

It was no use. Well over an hour had gone by and Hermione had only gotten through one of her books. Finding nothing useful, she moved onto the next. She had reread the same page several times but couldn't retain any of it. The book was a collection of interviews of ghosts that had lived through the Goblin Wars.

All Hermione could think of was how much Draco Malfoy had looked like a ghost. And consequently her mind wandered to his pale bony fingers holding out that Head Boy badge.

 _Surely he couldn't be._

With a decisive "snap," Hermione shoved the book in to her bag. The other books she returned to the shelves. Gathering her things, Hermione marched out of the library and up to the seventh floor.

Professor McGonagall's office was an odd assortment of plants and magical artifacts. Some Hermione knew, others she could only begin to guess. The large Victrola from fourth year sat to the side of a large empty expanse of hardwood floor. A plush sette and pair of armchairs hovered on a red and gold rug near glass cabinets along a far wall. Who normally occupied the chairs, Hermione couldn't guess. It seemed odd to think of the Headmistress entertaining guests.

Corralling her attention back to the task at hand, a gray tabby cat sat astutely on the desk, watching Hermione walk forward.

"Excuse me Professor McGonagall," she began. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I ran across Draco Malfoy in the hallway earlier this evening and he claims that he is this year's Head Boy. Forgive me but I thought Ernie Macmillan was given the position? Since I didn't want to spread wild rumors, I thought it best to check with you. He had a badge and everything, though I don't know how he got it since prefect badges have anti-duplication charms on them."

Hermione waited while the tabby sat completely still. Then a twitch of the tail.

"Erm, I'm sorry if I interrupted you. I should have asked before I started. Should I come back at another time?" Hermione asked.

"Nonsense!" a voice called from the loft above the desk. "Now is a perfectly good time."

Professor McGonagall came to the iron railing and looked down at the young Miss Granger. "I have been expecting you. Though I thought it wouldn't be until at least tomorrow."

Hermione glanced back at the cat who was watching the headmistress descend the spiral staircase. "I'm sorry to disturb you Professor. I just wanted to tell you that Draco Malfoy has claimed to be Head Boy and he has a badge that looks very similar to mine."

"I heard you, my dear. And how can I help you this evening?" McGonagall asked, coming to stand squarely in front of the desk.

"Well I guess I don't understand. Why is Malfoy claiming to be my partner and why does he have a badge when prefect badges are meant to be impossible to duplicate?"

"Why indeed?" McGonagall replied. "Surely, Miss Granger, you already know the answer to your question."

"Hang on. Do you mean to tell me that _Malfoy_ is Head Boy?" Hermione asked.

"Indeed, I think you may have just told yourself." McGonagall smiled.

Hermione huffed out a laugh. "Butt Malfoy couldn't possibly be Head Boy. He's a Death Eater! And his father is a Death Eater! His whole family fought alongside Voldemort."

"Surely not. I believe you remember Nymphadora Tonks? She was Draco Malfoy's cousin," McGonagall mused.

"Yes, but-"

"And I believe they were also related to Sirius Black through Narcissa."

Well sure, but-"

"And I believe that Narcissa played an important role in lying to Voldemort that Harry was dead when in fact he wasn't. Harry testified at her trial that if it were not for Narcissa, that Voldemort might have won."

"But she wasn't trying to-"

"And for Malfoy's part in this, I would remind you that he did nothing that any other child in his shoes might have done."

"THEY TORTURED ME!" Hermione burst out. "She tortured me, and he didn't do anything to stop it. He just watched! He just watched while she mutilated me with a cursed knife."

Professor McGonagall sat on the edge of her desk and studied the young woman in front of her.

"I know," McGonagall admitted with a sigh. "I know what she did to you. I think you were very brave. And I think you are a very different person than the girl that punched Malfoy in the face in her third year. -Yes, I knew about that, too," McGonagall said.

"Then, I'm sorry Professor, I still don't understand." Hermione said. "Why pair me up with the most hated boy in school?"

"Did you know that I have already talked to Malfoy this evening? An hour before you, actually," McGonagall said. "He offered to give his badge up. Insisted, really. He didn't seem to think he was the right choice, either."

Hermione was surprised. "I would have thought he'd have owled his mother or father to get you to switch me out for someone else."

"Indeed. Mr. Malfoy's request was uncharacteristic for what one would have expected from him two or three years ago." The Headmistress stood once more. "This war has changed everyone. You would be wise, Miss Granger, to remember that history is written by the victors. The other half of the story has a habit of being overlooked."

"I understand, Professor," Hermione replied, nodding once.

"I'm not sure that you do, Miss Granger. However. I expect you to try to cooperate with Mr. Malfoy. You are both adults and you will act as such," said the professor. "With any hope, we all might just learn a little something," McGonagall mused to herself.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, averting her gaze.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. You may return to your domitory," said the headmisstress, walking around the desk and taking a seat.

The grey cat that hadn't moved through the entirety of their conversation, continued to watch Hermione. Had it blinked at all while she had been talking to the professor? Hermione wasn't sure.

As if in answer to her silent question, the cat flicked the tip of it's tail as it slowly blinked and looked away. Deciding it was just as singular as any other cat, Hermione excused herself once more, turned and left the headmistress's office.

Descending the circular stairs, Hermione recalled some of the more peculiar points in their conversation. Firstly, that McGonagall had claimed that Draco offered to give up his Head Boy badge. Surely his family had wanted him to have it. And she knew from personal experience that Malfoy liked to use every chance he got to domineer over everyone he could. Fifth year in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, for example. And he was already a terrible prefect before that.

Secondly, Hermione knew Malfoy had been excused from any and all crimes made during the war. Of course bribes and blackmail must have been involved. He had more than enough money to pay off the Ministry. What possible consequences might he have faced that would make his version of the war worse than hers? No. Malfoy got off easy. He didn't fight giant snakes, or snatchers or the threat of starvation. He didn't get tortured.

Hermione respected the headmistress but she had to disagree. Sometimes the grass is greener…

Lastly, Hermione wasn't sure what McGonagall meant by what might be learned. What would anyone learn from Malfoy and Hermione being Head Boy and Girl?

 **Author's Note:** _Wow. Chapter two down. Hope you like it so far. I find it very comical that I inserted a little bit of my dad into this chapter. He always says "'History' is just that. His-story. History is written by the victors." It's something that has stuck with me and reminds me to try to be open-minded because you can never really know all the facts._ _As an INTJ* t_ _he idea of not being able to know_ _all_ _the facts drives me a bit nuts, but I digress. (*Meyer's Briggs. Google it. If you find psychology and personality tests as fascinating as I do, take the test on 16 personalities dot com. It's free and pretty darn_ _accurate.) AGAIN! I DIGRESS!_

 _If you have thoughts, comments, advice, constructive criticism, ideas, or if you wanna share some love, be my guest! If you want to tell me how much I suck, I'd really rather you didn't._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** _I need to thank my best friend Mo for her mutual love of all things Dramione. She is the BEST sounding board and has even coined herself #MoTheMuse. She is the one who introduced me to fanfic and convinced me to read The Eagle's Nest by HeartOfAspen where I first learned to love Dramione. If you have not read her fanfic, I must insist that it is 792,856,528% worth_ _the read._

Chapter 3

Hermione thought about her conversation with the headmistress most of the way back to the Gryffindor common room. By the time she got to the portrait of the fat lady, she had decided it was no use trying to figure out anything Draco Malfoy did. All she had to do was patrol with him a couple times a week and hold occasional prefects meetings together. The rest of the time she could go back to ignoring him altogether.

"Triumph," Hermione said to the Fat Lady.

"We certainly did," replied the Fat Lady, swinging forward.

Hermione glanced around the common room but didn't see Harry or Ron. Wanting to change out of her robes, Hermione made her way towards the staircase leading to the girl's dormitories.

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed.

Pausing on the staircase, Hermione started preparing excuses to avoid lingering in the common room. No doubt Ginny had some scheme planned. She had learned a certain disregard for rules and curfew from her older brothers.

"You must have left before the announcement at the feast!" Ginny remarked, getting up from her chair and walking towards the staircase. "The returning 8th years are in their own dormitories. You'll never guess where!"

"What?! Separate dormitories? There aren't any other dormitories inside the castle apart from the four houses. I would have read about them in 'Hogwarts, A History,'" Hermione stated, matter-of-factly.

"Really, Hermione. I'm not lying, look! There aren't any 8th years in the common room, are there?" Ginny asked. "You'll never guess where the new dormitories are! Mind you, I won't be allowed in. Harry will just have to come visit me here if he knows what's good for him."

"Gin, just tell me where the dormitories are," Hermione sighed.

Shaking with excitement, "The Room of Requirement!" Ginny burst out. "I'm so jealous! I bet you could ask the room for anything while you're there. A bigger bed. A pint of butterbeer. Or a passage to Hogsmeade! Ugh! The possibilities! You're so lucky."

"Not that lucky!" one of Ginny's friends quipped. "You couldn't pay me to go anywhere near there with-"

"SHH!" Ginny spat at her friend. "She'll figure it out," she said, turning back to Hermione with a hand on her hip. "You can handle yourself. Now scram!" she shooed Hermione. "Before I have to tell the Head _Boy_ you were trying to sneak into the Gryffindor dormitories."

"Don't even go there," Hermione moaned.

Ginny cocked her head, waiting for more. "Another time," Hermione said, slugging down the stairs. All the excitement of the last 2 hours had left her drained. "Goodnight!" Hermione called behind her as she slipped out of the portrait hole.

"Sleep tiiight!" Hermione faintly heard back.

Draco slowly sat up on the wide ledge railing of the stairs leading up to the front of the castle. The railing was moderately comfortable. Or as comfortable as stone could be, really. It gave him a good view of the cloudless night. This late at night, no one was around to see as he looked up at the sky once more, then rolled his shoulders before slipping in through the front doors.

Passing through the Trophy Room on the way to the dungeons, Malfoy spotted Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat. Aiming his wand to petrify her before she could fetch Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris flitted around the corner and disappeared. _Damnit._

Lengthening his stride, Malfoy continued his way to the dungeons. As Head Boy, curfew rules didn't apply to him. Though he really disliked the squib caretaker. Everyone did. Almost as much as Mr. Filch hated all the students in return.

It could only be his luck that Mr. Filch caught up to him just steps away from the Slytherin common room. "Out of bed, are we?" Mr. Filch sneered. "Sneaking around planting dung bombs? I knew I would catch you this year. Dumbledore wouldn't let me have you but perhaps the new Headmistress isn't quite as soft."

Malfoy squared his shoulders. "As usual, you filthy squib, you seem to have come to the wrong conclusion. I'll have you know that I am Head Boy. And as Head Boy, I have better things to do with my time than plant dung bombs."

"That's what they all say. But if you were really Head Boy, why are you trying to get into the Slytherin common room?" Mr. Filch smiled. "Not very smart one, this one, eh Mrs. Norris?" Mr. Filch purred. "All the 8th years are up on the 7th floor aren't they? In the old Room of Requirement, they are."

"I can see you've caught me, Mr. Filch." Malfoy stated, raising his eyebrows. "I was trying to keep Peeves from mussing up the Trophy Room. But when he started throwing glue and glitter everywhere- Well, you can understand why I wouldn't want to be covered in glitter. I believe he said something about leaving a certain _special_ surprise for you, though. I'm not sure what it was, exactly. But he had buckets of something that smelled absolutely foul. I came straight away to the Slytherin common room to fetch the Bloody Baron."

Undecided, Mr. Filch quivered on the spot. Mrs. Norris let out a single _meow_ then took off in the direction that Draco had just come. "Don't let me catch out out wandering after dark again!" Mr. Filch sputtered.

And just like that, the caretaker took off, hobbling as fast as his knobbly legs would take him.

Draco paused a moment. The Room of Requirement? He thought it had been destroyed last year from Crabbe's fiendfyre. Draco squeezed his eyes shut to block out the memory. He would have died that day, if not for Potter.

 _Crabbe_ had died.

Draco opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders once more. "Lumos," he said, his wand emitting a soft glow as he made his way up to the 7th floor.

Well, he had to admit, it made sense. Technically everyone returning for their 8th year would be adults in the eyes of the wizarding world. Probably for the best to keep the returning students all separate.

Still. The castle was still under construction following the Battle of Hogwarts. He had no idea where the other houses could be located. The Room of Requirement might come in handy, though. He could have his own room instead of sharing a room with all the others. And then he could turn his room into something a little more substantial. More like his stateroom back home.

Draco swallowed hard. Maybe not _quite_ like his room back home.

Hermione could just catch a faint flicker of light coming around the far corner as she neared the door to the Room of Requirement. She stopped, wondering who would be out this late, when none other than Draco Malfoy turned the corner.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione called out.

"Granger, we meet again. I'm beginning to think you're stalking me," Draco replied coolly.

"As if, Malfoy." she said, squaring off. "I'm heading back to my dormitory. Someone told me the 8th year Gryffindors are in the Room of Requirement. You didn't answer my question."

Malfoy stopped 4 feet from her. He really did look dreadful. "I think you're mistaken," he said. "The 8th year _Slytherins_ are in the Room of Requirement. Did someone hit you with a Confundus Charm when you weren't looking?"

Before Hermione could retort back, a door materialized in the wall on her right.

"See? The door appeared for me because the Gryffindors are obviously the ones in the Room of Requirement," Hermione stated, gesturing towards the door.

"You think you're so smart, Granger. Even you know the door didn't appear until I got here," Malfoy pointed out. "But if you really want to climb into the snake's nest, be my guest. Ladies first, oh Golden One."

Malfoy opened the door, stood to the side and dropped his head as Hermione rolled her eyes and stomped by and into the room. "Ferret," she muttered.

Malfoy hid a smirk and followed her into the room.

 **Author's Note:** _I'm sorry! This was a short one. But I'm super excited to describe the dorms and I might get carried away. I drew it out on paper and everythinnnnngggg!_ _My husband thinks I'm nuts. But hey! I'm an architecture nerd. In another life, I should have been an Architect._

 _As usual, feel free to leave your thoughts, comments, ideas, constructive criticism, etc. And again, if you just hate everything, I'd rather you just move on._

 _Thanks!_

 _Love,_

 _Rachael_

 _PS, I expect the next update will come within the next couple of days because, like I said, I already drew something up. OOH! I'm so excited!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note:** I said I would update quick but I guess I lied. Life happened. Nothing worth note. _

_Anyways! Carrying on. I'm so excited to describe the common rooooooom. I hope you like it._

Malfoy followed Hermione through the doorway to see a convex hallway and set of stairs stretching away from him and out of sight on his left. Turning his gaze to the right, the curved hallway continued on the right, arching away in a semi circle. He vaguely noticed two doors down this hall and glanced back to the left in time to notice a few more doors on the left before walking straight into the back of Granger. With Seeker-like speed, Malfoy instinctively raised his hands to grab Hermione's arms to prevent her from falling forward.

"Sorr-" Draco started.

-

Hermione had stopped short when she saw that she was inside what looked like a giant round terrarium with plush green grass and four large boulders surrounding an overly large apple tree, grandly appointed in the center of the room. The scraggly, silver-brown limbs, full of ripe apples, twisted and turned as if caught in the middle of a dance. Looking up, the ceiling was several stories tall and faded to a bewitched starry night sky, much like the enchanted ceiling in the great hall. Hermione could vaguely make out a wide round skylight centered directly over the tree. To allow in natural sunlight, perhaps?

She hardly noticed that Malfoy had almost knocked her over. It was then that she slowly lowered her gaze to see Neville Longbottom smiling broadly at her from a wide opening in the far curved wall. It looked like they were in some sort of an ante-chamber. She could see another room with a large curving stone wall filled with windows further behind him. The Room of Requirement must have fashioned itself into a tower, she considered.

"Hiya, Hermione!" Neville loped over. "Incredible, isn't it? I was doing some research to find out what kind of apple tree this is when you walked in. I thought maybe it was a new species, seeing as it's so big for it's kind. Can you believe it? It turns out the room of requirement caters to trees too! The room is providing the sunlight through the ceiling, and nutrients through the floor! Isn't it amazing?!"

Neither Hermione or Malfoy moved an inch. Both jaws open and eyes wide.

"Oi, Malfoy! You let go of her right now or I'll hex you to next Tuesday!" called Ron, stomping up to them.

"Jealous, Weasley?" Malfoy drawled, slowly lowering his hands. Hermione hadn't realized he had still been holding her arms. They were cold now where his hands had been as she fought back a shiver. "I was trying to keep her from running away from your ugly spotted face. Thought I was doing you a favor, holding her in place _,_ " he spat, stepping out from behind Granger. Returning to an expression of cool indifference, Malfoy pulled a long curly brown hair from the sleeve of his robes. The four of them watched as it slowly floated to the floor while Ron's face turned a bright shade of red.

Finally catching herself,Hermione scowled. "Honestly, Ronald," she said, putting her hand on her hip. "We didn't know if it was the Gryffindors or Slytherins that were in here so we both walked in and I was so shocked by this room," she gestured, "that I stopped short. You can't blame him for something that was clearly an accident." Was she defending Malfoy against Ron? Well Ron _had_ jumped down Malfoy's throat for no reason, she told herself.

"By the way," she sang, turning to Malfoy, "looks like I was right! The Slytherins probably have another room somewhere in the dungeons." She turned back to Ron and Neville with a smirk. "-What?"

The red of Ron's face continued to his ears while Neville was avoiding Hermione's eyes, choosing to look at his feet while he brushed his shoe along the top of the blades of grass instead.

"Er. Well, Hermione," Neville began carefully. "It seems you were both right."

Ron was a brilliant shade of scarlet now.

"Professor McGonagall," Neville muttered, "well she put all of the returning students, that is, _all of the 8_ _th_ _year_ returning students, into one shared common room."

Hermione blanched. " _What?_ " she heard Malfoy protest beside her. "When was this announced?"

"At the feast, _Malfoy,_ " Ron spat. "Where were _you_? Letting some more of your Death Eater mates into the castle, no doubt?"

Hermione was caught off guard by Ron's blatant attack. She turned to Draco only to find that the former death eater looked akin to if he had been slapped. Before she could blink, the Head Boy adopted a familiar scowl and resolutely turned on his heal and walked back through the doors they had just entered and out into the main hallway. Hermione watched the door shut quietly before turning on her friend. "You're an impossible, insolent, disrespectful prat, Ronald! Honestly!"

It was Ron's turn to be speechless as Hermione turned and followed Draco out into the hallway.

"She's right. Bang out of order, mate," she heard Neville mutter as the door closed behind her.

She had only left the room a few seconds after Draco but he was already a good distance ahead of her as she attempted to follow after him. His longer stride meant she was alternating between a fast walk and a jog to try to catch up to him.

"Draco, wait!" she called, as he slipped around a corner. "Draco!"

No answer. Cursing herself for having taken out the _largest_ of the books from the library, she held the strap of her cross-body bag at her chest and picked up a steady jog. Turning the corner, she saw a foot disappear into a classroom at the far end of the hall.

Relieved, she broke into a slow walk to catch her breath and to minimize the sound of her footsteps. Hermione cautiously approached the classroom door. There was no light showing from under the door but she was sure this was the one he had gone into. Taking her wand out of her robes, she whispered _Alohomora_ and slowly pushed the door open with a soft creak of its hinges.

The sudden change in light prevented her from being able to see anything beyond the glowing arc of light from the corridor filtering through a freshly disturbed cloud of dust. The room smelled of chalk powder and cracked old wood. A stale, stagnant kind of smell. Like it hadn't been used in years.

"What do you want, Granger," a voice drawled through the dark.

"Lumos," Hermione pointed her wand toward the voice.

Her wandlight found a pair of black converse propped on the desk of a teacher now long gone. Adjusting her wand slightly, she found Malfoy casually lounging in a large wing-back leather chair with his hands behind his head. One would think he had been sitting there a good deal of time if she hadn't just followed him here. The only hint to her chase proved in his chest rising and falling a bit faster than strictly normal.

"What are you doing in here, Malfoy?" she huffed, suspicious of his nonchalance. "We're not meant to wander the corridors at night, and especially not to break into classrooms."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Since you answered my question with a question, I would say that I'm merely performing my duties as Head Boy to make sure this room is clear of any lingering students, hazardous materials or wicked enchantments," he replied coolly, examining his fingernails.

"That's rubbish and we both know it," she stated. Dropping her bag into an empty student's chair, she took a step closer to the blonde to see him in better light. She barely managed to choke back a gasp when she saw how _gaunt_ he looked. The light and shadows cast by her wand threw his features into sharp contrast. His cheekbones were too pronounced and the bruises under his eyes indicated that he hadn't slept in a while. She wondered how she didn't notice it earlier. Or maybe the light was just better to his favor then.

"You didn't answer my question, Granger," he answered simply, now examining his fingernails. "What do you want?"

His quicksilver eyes bored into her. Her heart skipped a beat while her tongue seemed determined to swell to twice its size. Why _was_ she here? What _did_ she want? Why on earth did she follow Malfoy? Especially into a dark unfamiliar room! Before her brain could form a coherent thought, "I don't know," her mouth whispered traitorously.

Eyebrows now drawn together, Draco took in the witch in front of him. He didn't like her. She was an irritating, insufferable know-it-all, that couldn't seem to tame her own wild mess of hair. Or control where her own feet took her, apparently. Her figure was barely tolerable, he supposed. But her chocolate eyes gave away her every thought and right now she was very confused. Well that made two of them.

Collecting herself, her face now turned to a scowl. "Sorry about Ron," she said, picking her bag back up with a huff and making to leave.

She made it to the door with her hand on the knob when she heard him speak. "Are you a witch or not? _Gravitas Penna_." The heavy bag on her shoulder became considerably less-so with Draco's use of the Feather Light charm.

Frozen, staring forward at the door, Hermione didn't quite know what to make of the scenario she now found herself in. Did he just insult her and then help her? Why? She couldn't see a motive.

Another second ticked by and Hermione decided two things. One. She didn't want to know why Malfoy did what he did. Two. Besides, it didn't matter _why_ , anyways. Malfoy was Malfoy and that was it.

So Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She raised her chin, puffed out her chest, pushed her shoulders back and walked out the door leaving Malfoy alone in the dark and dusty abandoned classroom.

An involuntary breath of relief escaped her lips as the door clicked shut behind her.

Decidedly wiping the encounter with Malfoy from her mind, Hermione took off down the corridor back towards the Room of Requirement. Or was it Common Room now? Either way, she was excited to explore the giant bookcases she saw during her initial visit. Nothing could stand in her way when there were new bookshelves to explore.

 _ **AN:** So I suck at life and realized I didn't have a solid plan for where I was going with this whole story. Well I mean I kinda do. But I'm more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of person when it comes to writing. Whatever. I'm sure you don't care what I say in an author's note and I'm just babbling so I'm going to shut up now!_

 _PS, reviews would be awesome, even if it's just to say Hi! Do I have to beg? Don't make me beg. Okay, maybe I'll beg. Say Hi to me? Please?…_

 _PPS, If you see any spelling or grammar errors, let me know! I would gladly fix them! Every time I reread these chapters, I find something that need fixing._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:** Okay. So here's a ton more fluff. Forgive me. This chapter is much longer than the previous ones._

 _Onto some more Common Room and what happened to Ron and Hermione._

This time, the terrarium didn't cause Hermione to go into immediate shock. But the hundreds, maybe thousands, of books around the perimeter soon might.

Hermione's feet pulled her slowly to the nearest curved bookcase. Skimming the titles, she saw books on Quidditch, Magical History and Herbology. (One book was missing from the latter. Presumably the one she had seen Neville with earlier.) There were also sections pertaining to Potions, Divination, Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Her eyes scanned the titles at eye level while her hand trailed wistfully behind, gentle fingers brushing along smooth leather bindings.

"Intriguing, isn't it?" a dreamy voice spoke behind her causing Hermione to jump. Luckily her other hand had been holding the strap on her bag of books or else she might have hexed her intruder.

Luna Lovegood appeared next to her, gazing at the bookshelves.

"I love that they put a small library in our Common Room," Hermione defended, sizing up the girl next to her.

"Oh yes, it certainly is wonderful!" Luna exclaimed. Hermione relaxed. "I wonder why they felt it necessary to put books here from the Restricted Section." Hermione's attention snapped back to the bookshelves. "I saw a book dedicated to the Bunyip that I borrowed for one of Father's articles a few years back," Luna explained. "It was in the Restricted Section due to its tendency to illicit fear of the Black Lake in some first years. But there's no reason to watch out for the Bunyip here at Hogwarts. It is not commonly found outside of Australia."

Hermione wasn't quite sure what creature Luna was referring to, but studying the titles more closely, a few of them did seem to be on more questionable topics. _That's curious_ , she thought. She wondered why anyone would stock a library for students with books like some of these. _Pernicious Potions: How to Brew, When to Use and Why the Necessity_ seemed hardly likely to be standard Hogwarts curriculum. Nor would it be light bedtime reading.

"There are even some muggle books over there," Luna motioned to the other side of the terrarium. "My mother used to read some of them before she died," she said with a small smile.

"Intriguing, indeed," Hermione admitted, staring towards the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room. The 7th year witch certainly had a way of bringing up peculiar topics, Hermione considered. _Wait a second…_

"Luna," Hermione started, turning back to the blonde, "how did you get into the Common-" But she was gone. Hermione would have to try to find out later how a 7th year managed to get into the 8th year Common Rooms. Ginny seemed to think it couldn't be done. Then again, maybe that was just a rumor. This was the first night back, after all.

Curiosity abounding, Hermione started to make her way over to the other side of the room with the muggle books when Neville approached again.

"Hiya, Hermione," Neville greeted again. "Glad you made it back okay. Ron wanted to follow you out to blast Malfoy but I froze him til Harry came and got him. Told them you could handle yourself anyways."

Hermione was a bit shocked that Neville had the nerve to freeze an angry Ronald. "Thanks," she squeaked. Clearing her throat, "Ron has been a bit tense lately," she supplied. "I'm sure he'll be grateful you stopped him from getting expelled on his first day back."

Neville grinned. "Sure thing, Hermione."

She may have fudged that a bit. Hermione had no doubt that Ron wouldn't want himself described as "tense." Nor would he have regretted being expelled if he got a good shot at Malfoy. Until Mrs. Weasley got a hold of him, that is. But she didn't need to say any of that out loud. Neville knew Ron almost as well as she did.

"Want me to show you around?" Neville offered, changing the topic.

"Absolutely," she smiled, taking his offered arm. Neville was the best, sometimes.

-

Draco had returned to the Common Room a while later. He had taken a long way around, biding his time.

He didn't like the thought of sharing a Common Room with the other houses. Draco had already known there would be challenges facing his return. He knew there would likely be whispered insults in the Great Hall and anonymous hexes in the hallways. He might not have liked it, but he was expecting it.

The one thing he thought he had going for him was that the Slytherins would leave him alone in the Dungeons where he thought he might have some sort of reprieve. Most of the Slytherins were too self-preserving to say or do anything against him. Even if he was disgraced, his family still had much of their fortune intact. And their behind-the-scenes influence was still far-reaching, even if not quite as much as before the war.

So while his fellow Slytherins probably would have distanced themselves to avoid an associated drop in social status, he could at least count on them to not curse him while studying in the Common Room. The other houses couldn't be trusted to such an extent. The Gryffindors especially. Weasel King would probably be the first in line.

Having made his way back to the Common Room, Draco slid into a chair in a dark nook next to the entry door. A small bistro table with another chair shared the space with him. From here, he could see into the left side of the terrarium beyond and watched as Longbottom led Granger around on his arm.

He could vaguely hear the conversation. Nothing exciting. Just catching up and showing her around. Now turning and motioning beyond the terrarium, Granger and Longbottom strolled out of sight, the sound of their chatter dying away.

"When you're done spying, would you like to see the more interesting areas?" Theo Nott drawled. He was leaning against the opposite side of the wall to Draco's back, right in front of the entry door from the Hallway.

-

The newest Common Room apparently shaped itself like a tower. There was an outer hallway with the different house dormitories. McGonagall spared them having to all sleep together, _thank the stars_. The Lions and Ravens were next to eachother off to the right, past the nook Draco had holed up in.

To the left, apparently Granger and himself got their own rooms next to eachother. He hadn't explored there yet. Granger's door was closest to the entry on the left. Taking 3 brief steps down, his door was 30 feet further into the darkening hallway, also on the left. Another 30 feet after that, the Slytherin dormitory door broke the last remaining stone expanse of the curving wall. The hallway then turned into what looked like a dead end, but there was another larger hidden nook on the right.

The Room of Requirement somehow knew that the Snakes liked their hiding spots. There was no natural sunlight here and the ceiling was low. The stone radiated a cool humidity there.

There was also a stairwell back near Granger's door leading up to a balcony above. Up there was the door to the Badgers' hole and a few small groups of tables and chairs overlooked the terrarium.

"Interesting concept, the headmistress came up with. What do you think?" Nott asked, trying to break his friend's silence. Draco hadn't really spoken a word while being led around the terrarium and the surrounding halls.

"Unusual enough," Draco agreed. "At least we don't have to share a room with Potter and Weasley."

"You don't have to share a room with anyone, mate," Nott bantered, giving Draco's shoulder a shove. "You get your own private suite."

Draco forced a hint of a smirk.

"What did your mother say about you getting Head Boy?" Nott asked.

"She was suspicious," Malfoy answered truthfully. "She doesn't know why they gave me Head Boy with everything that happened the last few years. She wonders if McGonagall wants to keep an eye on me."

"That sounds possible," his friend agreed. "But don't you think giving you your own room sort of negates the ability to keep watch on you?"

Malfoy hadn't thought of that. Then again, he also hadn't known he would be getting his own room until now. McGonagall certainly must have her reasons. The Headmistress could be more Slytherin than he originally gave her credit for.

"C'mon. Let's go check out this special room of yours," Nott led the way to the Head Boy's room, Draco following a short distance behind.

-

Still arm in arm, Neville led Hermione out of the terrarium and into another room beyond. The far wall was curved with several large gothic style stained glass windows. There were several tables and chairs clumped together in the middle of the long arcing room.

To the left, there were some wing-backed chairs, a cushy loveseat, some poofs, and a sofa that held a few Ravenclaw girls, chattering about who came back looking cuter than the year before. Neville had blushed and moved her towards the other end of the long room.

After passing the tables and chairs once more, a long buffet was set up with various snacks along with assorted tea pots. In the far corner, a roaring fire was going with a few well-loved sofas and chairs. It was here that she saw her friends in what looked like tenuous silence.

"Hi Harry," Hermione smiled at her best friend, ignoring Ron.

"Hey Hermione!" Harry grinned back. "Care to join us? We didn't get to catch up earlier! How was your Summer?" he asked, obviously trying to break the awkward silence.

Ron slid his attention to Hermione and Neville, noting their locked arms.

Suddenly realizing the faux pas, Neville released her arm slowly, muttered some excuse, and hurried away.

"Already onto the next, I see," Ron spat, jumping from the sofa and stomping out of the room, grabbing a croissant from the buffet on his way out.

Shocked, Hermione looked to Harry, wondering if he was going to accuse her of something ridiculous next.

"Ron's always been bad at feelings, 'Mione," he offered. "He'll come 'round."

Hermione sighed and sank onto the couch, one knee propped under the other, and rested her head onto Harry's shoulder. "I can't believe I used to want to marry him," she mumbled. "I'm sorry you're kind of in the middle."

"Not that I ever thought you were the greatest match, but what went wrong?" Harry asked. "All I know is what Ron told me. And all Ron has told me is that you dumped him for 'no reason.'"

"Is THAT what he said?!" she demanded, now searching her friend's face. "Is that what _you_ think?"

"No. That is not what I think," Harry answered quickly. "I think Ron didn't tell me the whole story. Ron didn't tell me a fraction of what went on between you two. That's why I'm asking you."

Hermione had to admit it. She thought Harry would side with Ron like he used to sometimes do. Taking a deep breath, "Well, what do you want to know?" she asked.

"Hermione," he levelled, "I don't think it's necessarily what I _want_ to know. I think it's more what I _need_ to know. I should know what's going on with my best friends."

 _Fair enough_ , she thought. "Neville said I have my own room," she hinted as she stood up, holding out her hand to pull Harry off the couch. "Want to check it out?"

-

"Gee, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "Want to trade? This is bigger than Dudley's room!"

Hermione was surprised, herself. It was bigger than her parent's master bedroom back home. Add to that, her ceiling was almost 2 stories high, and this room was massive. There was a small kitchenette near the door with a tea kettle already on the stove, a large desk with a doubly large set of bookshelves on the wall behind it. On the wall above the desk were astronomy charts, note cards with commonly used potion recipes, a muggle picture of her with her parents from 3 years ago, and another picture of her, Harry and Ron laughing in front of the fire in the old Gryffindor common room. It made her heart ache, wishing things could be as carefree as they used to be.

The rest of the room was comfortably arranged with a small loveseat, armchair, and low table in front of a small hearth that was crackling merrily. A large double bed appointed a large portion of the room with a padded headboard, large sheer linen canopy and an assortment of throw pillows in different colors and sizes.

The walls, where not covered with furniture and bookshelves, were a soft pale sage green while the furniture was an assortment of painted ivory and walnut. Overall, the room lent itself to a light, eclectic mishmash of practical functionality with a few lightly feminine touches. It had the distinct feeling of _home_ , even if it didn't even faintly resemble her childhood home growing up.

"Where does this go, I wonder," Harry spoke aloud, opening a door in the wall near the desk and promptly disappearing through it.

A few seconds later, "You better come see this, Hermione," her friend called from beyond the doorway.

Not sure what to expect, Hermione followed through the doorway, her wand at the ready. _Hey, you never know._

For the second time tonight, (or was it the third?) Hermione stopped short. She didn't notice the room around her. No. The first thing she noticed was another closed door, straight ahead, leading to another unknown room. _Not quite unknown._ That must lead to Malfoy's room. Neville had told her that the Head Boy and Girl's rooms were right next to eachother. But she didn't actually expect to be sharing a _sitting_ _room_ with him!

Now wondering just what kind of room she would be sharing with the former Death Eater, she took a look around. Unlike the suite they had just left, this room lacked any kind of personality. It seemed mostly utilitarian with one sofa and a large low table. A calendar graced one wall with holidays and Hogsmeade weekends already inked in. The first was three weeks away, she noticed.

The ceiling was lower in here. A small spiral staircase to the side of the room led up to another floor that Hermione had no interest in seeing.

Having seen enough, Harry turned and marched out of the room, back into her apartment. _Was it an apartment?_ She guessed it was since it had a kitchenette and its own bathroom. _Wait._ _Did_ it have its own bathroom? She wouldn't have to share with Malfoy, would she?

A small panic crept up her spine as she turned and ran from the joining room and back to look for a bathroom. She didn't remember seeing one.

Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed as she ran past to another door that she hadn't seen earlier. Throwing this door open, she stopped just inside the doorway and let out a deep sigh of relief. _Thank the gods, she didn't have to share a bathroom with Malfoy._

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "You know," he muttered, "other than sleeping next to Malfoy."

Choosing not to add her moment of panic to Harry's already decided worry, Hermione returned back to the bedroom. "Nothing," she said. "I just wanted to make sure they brought my toiletries to the right room," she lied.

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hair and Hermione had the decency to blush and change the topic. "So about Ron..." she began, taking up a comfy position on the bed.

-

It didn't take Hermione as long as she thought to explain what went sour about her relationship with Ronald Weasley. In a nutshell, things between the two had been tenuous at best. Without the goal of destroying horcruxes, or keeping Harry alive, the two got on eachother's nerves more often than not. So it was odd that Ron had started bringing up the idea of marriage.

Hermione wasn't sure she was ready for such a leap. She wanted to go back and finish her NEWTS at Hogwarts. Decide on a career. Get established in said career. All _before_ she decided to settle down.

She didn't think she was asking for much, really. But Ron had mentioned in passing at one point that he she would want to stay home and take care of "the kids."

" _What kids?! We aren't even engaged yet and you're already talking about kids?" she asked._ " _Well I just thought you would want to stay home-" Ron stuttered._ " _Of COURSE I want to have a family, Ron," she said, cutting him off. "-Eventually. But why does that mean I can't ALSO have a career?"_ " _You never said what you wanted to do! Harry and I want to be aurors but you don't want to be an auror!"_ " _Just because I don't want to be an auror, that doesn't mean I don't have other aspirations, Ronald!" throwing her arms._ " _Well mum-"_ " _I am NOT your mother! I am my own person. I don't want to stay cooped up in a house with 7 kids day after day!"_ " _WELL I'M SORRY MY FAMILY ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!" Ron roared._ " _That's not what I said, Ron, and you know it!"_

In the end, that argument was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. Ron thought Hermione should stay home and not work. Hermione wanted to work. Ron resented that he thought Hermione thought his family sub-par.

Add on top of that, the horrible snogging sessions, and Hermione really didn't see any reason to stay. She didn't tell Harry about the snogging. She didn't particularly enjoy when Ginny would tell her about hers and Harry's escapades. No doubt Harry would not appreciate hearing about his two best friends groping on Ron's bed. (Amongst dirty laundry, no less.) It wasn't exactly romantic. Or satisfactory. Hermione would always end up wiping her face on the sleeve of her robe when she thought Ron wasn't looking. Ron caught her at it once. They had yet another row about that.

" _Is it that disgusting when I kiss you?!" he asked, calling her out._ " _No!" Not really having an excuse handy, she was forced to say "It was just a bit… wet… this time." She was grasping at straws, trying not to bruise his ego. The truth was, it was slobbery. Every time. And when he tried feeling her up, she felt like he was trying to honk an old car horn. Nothing exciting. And sometimes it sort of hurt._

"To tell the truth, 'Mione," Harry began, "I never really thought you were a good match," he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Really? I thought you wanted us to be together," she prodded.

"I wanted you both to be _happy,_ " he emphasized. "If that meant you were happy together, great. But Ron is quick tempered and you are... passionate."

Hermione blushed and glanced at her friend.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," he laughed. "You're just as bad as he is sometimes. You push each others buttons too much."

Happy that her best friend wasn't taking sides, Hermione flopped backwards onto the bed. "I know," she smiled. "But it means a lot to me that you understand."

Companionable silence followed until…

"So…" Harry started. "What are the chances that you read all the new textbooks already?" he teased. "What are we learning about this year?"

Hermione grinned and slowly raised her arm above her head on the bed. Grabbing the corner of the nearest throw pillow, she waited a moment before bringing her arm around and slamming the pillow into Harry's chest.

-

 _ **Author's Note:** So, before someone stones me to death, I'm sorry about the stay-at-home-mom thing. That does not mean that I'm sorry that Hermione doesn't want that for herself because I honestly can't see her ever wanting that. Or at least, my Hermione wouldn't. BUT that doesn't mean that she or I don't respect stay-at-home moms. She's mostly mad that Ron would have just sort of pushed her into that role without listening to what _she _wants. Okay, maybe "pushed" is the wrong word. But he would have wanted her to do that just because it's what he's used to. He doesn't know any better. And she wants more._ _PS, Harry's last question is a slight clue to how we are going to move forward. Someone left a review mentioning that I'm not good at leaving you guys with cliff hangers. You are right! Sorry! I'll try to work on it. This chapter doesn't have a cliff hanger though, I admit. Just more fluff that needed to be gotten through. *slaps own hand* "Bad Rachael, Bad!"_ _PPS, Any other suggestions/helpful hints/whatever are appreciated!_ _PPPS, I hope I cleared some things up with why Ron and Hermione split._ _PPPPS, Sorry I rambled in this Author's Note. I tend to do that. I'll try not to do it in the story too much, though._


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:** Okay. So this is a fast update. (Twice in two days?! Helloooooo!) But it's a short one. Enjoy. _

The first day back to classes started with Transfiguration, followed by a double block of Potions. Because not all the 8th years had returned, and not all the ones that did return had decided to take every class, all 8th year houses were combined into one class per each subject. _This should get interesting_ , Draco thought. He wasn't looking forward to sharing every class with the Golden Trio. Putting up with whispers about himself was bad enough without also having to listen to hushed reverence thrown towards Harry Potter and crew was unbearable.

At least he had slept well last night. Seemed like it was the first night in a long time he had gotten more than 4 hours. Hosting a dark lord in your house might have had something to do with it. Nothing had gone back to normal after he was defeated. He still heard screaming coming from different areas of the house. The only difference now was that it wasn't real.

But his room here looked and felt nothing like his suite in the manor house. Draco exhaled a deep breath. Hopefully his nightmares wouldn't follow him all the way here.

Professor Slughorn started the class as Draco was taking out his Potions book and quill out of his bag. The seat next to him was empty as Zabini had sat next to a pretty Ravenclaw girl, Pansy sat with Daphne Greengrass, and Theo was conspicuously absent. He hadn't thought to ask last night which classes his friends would be taking. He knew Nott liked Potions and he was decent at it so he couldn't think of why his friend wouldn't be here.

"Good morning class!" The professor greeted. "Today we will be learning about and brewing a potion called Homo Vitisquous. Can anyone tell me what this potion is used for?" he asked the class.

 _Here we go_ , Draco rolled his eyes to where Granger sat.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he called, motioning to her in the second row.

"Homo Vitisquous is a DNA matching potion. It gives an indication of how closely or distantly two people are related. It is sometimes used to determine how closely two people might be related before courting eachother."

"Correct! 10 points to Gryffindor! Well done, well done. -Yes, Miss Brown?"

"Professor, isn't is also used to determine the parentage of a child?" Lavender Brown asked tentatively. "Maybe if there is more than one possible, -er… father?

The whole class snickered while Lavender blushed and dropped her head into her folded arms. Draco smirked. At least he'd never be the fool in that kind of situation. Turning back to the front of the class, he noticed Weasley, McLaggan and Blaise were all still staring at the girl. Weasley and McLaggan both looked like they might be sick, while Blaise seemed peeved.

 _Interesting._ Potions class had just turned into the gossip section of the Daily Prophet.

"Now, now!" Slughorn called, tapping his wand on the desk to recapture the class's attention. "Yes," he directed at the girl, "it is sometimes also used for that." Sparing just a small frown, he turned back to the front.

"The Homo Vitisquous potion is very sensitive. If brewed correctly, it will change in color to reveal how closely two people are related. Can anyone tell me what color it will turn for an identical match? Yes, Miss Granger?"

-

Nearly an hour later, Malfoy found himself standing at a bubbling cauldron towards the back of the room next to Blaise. He didn't bring up the Brown-girl's question. His friend would say something if he wanted to talk about it. Instead, he stowed the information away in the recesses of him mind, both opting for companionable silence.

"Bet you're related to half the class," Weasley whispered as he walked by.

"As long as you're not one of them, Weasley," he countered back. "I would hate for those spots to show up in my gene pool."

Cursing under his breath, Ron returned back to his own cauldron in which it looked like something had congealed and fermented.

Smirking into his own cauldron, at least Potions came easy to him. His god father had forced him into private tutored lessons during his first few years at Hogwarts. Malfoy had hated feeling like he was getting remedial help but the lessons had turned out to be quite valuable and he had excelled ever since.

"Next," Slughorn called over the dull noise of the classroom, "please divide your potions into the 15 jars you see placed before you! Excellent!" Making his way through the class, Professor Slughorn made comments here and there of jobs well done, or where a potion needed improvement.

"Harry, my dear boy! What a lovely job," he effused. "-Oh. Walbly. That won't do, that won't do," he muttered, referring to Weasley's cauldron. "Into the jars, with it," he sighed. "Perfect, as usual, Miss Granger," he continued. "Mr. Finnegan, you have a knack for making the most passive potions into something explosive." Waving his wand, the contents of Seamus's cauldron disappeared.

"Wha-! But Professor-" Seamus objected.

"I'll thank you to not blow up my classroom today, Mr. Finnegan," he cut off.

"Mr. Malfoy, well done, of course," he said after glancing into the jars Draco had begun to fill.

"Right!" Slughorn exclaimed, waving his wand. "Now to the reveal! You'll now notice two names on your vials. One will be your own, while the other will be the name of a class mate. In order for the potion to be complete, you will need to add either a piece of hair, or a drop of blood to every jar with your name on it. Once two people have added their hair or blood to a jar, it will turn color and we shall see how closely we are all related! Now, chop-chop! Around the room, visit every cauldron and add the hair or blood. We will come back and add to your own jars after you have visited the other stations first."

Students ambled around, most deciding it easiest to pull out hairs. The boys around the room winced as they began pulling out enough hairs to fill all the jars with their names on it. The girls had it easier. They only had to run their hands through their locks to come up with several pain-free hairs at a time.

Seamus had decided it would be funny to rip out nose hairs instead of hair from his head. Girls nearby looked on in disgust. Malfoy didn't know why he did it. All he got from it were some tears now running down his cheek from the pain of trying to pull 15 hairs out of his nose.

Rolling his eyes again as he returned to his station, Malfoy hoped he wasn't related to that set of DNA.

"Right," Slughorn announced, "Now add the hair to your own jars and let the potion reveal who you might be related to in this very class."

Draco eyed the jars in front of him. In truth, he _was_ slightly worried he would be too closely related to more than one witch or wizard in the class. Pureblood families were slightly inbred, he admited to himself. But his family usually took care to not marry anyone too close in the family tree. He wasn't sure why he was so worried.

Gracefully using his wand to cut a few strands of hair, Draco held a hair over the first jar and closed his eyes and dropped the white strand into the potion below.

Before he could open his eyes, a sharp intake of breath sounded to his left.

-

 _ **AN:** Sorry for the cliffie. Annnnd sorry about Lav. But we don't know anything yet, do we? _


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed or favorited this story. Every time I get a new notification from FF, a little part of me squeals inside. I would squeal out loud but my husband already thinks I'm nuts. Don't need to be adding fuel to the fire. _

_Sorry for the wait. I've read and reread this chapter so many times. I hope it's good enough._

 _This is another long one. Well… long for me, anyways._

 _Are you ready? Here we go..._

Hermione was slightly amused by this class so far. Ron still was not talking to her, which was mildly irritating, but he was even more moody because he was too afraid to admit that he was worried about how many people _he_ would be related to. Which was why, she thought, he had made the jab at Malfoy.

It seemed to her to be a potion that deserved to be on one of the daytime TV shows her mom would sometimes watch. She, at least, wouldn't be related to anybody in the class. It might be fun, though, to find out how many of her class mates were related to each other. Maybe some of them could even find it in themselves to be more tolerant of each other. _Yea, right,_ she thought, considering the Slytherins. _Wishful thinking, Hermione_.

So it came as a surprise when she dropped a hair in her 11th jar and the contents turned a bright shimmering gold. Emitting a small gasp, her stomach dropped through the floor. Struck speechless, all she could do was stare.

Silently, she started going through Professor Slughorn's lecture in her mind's eye. Dark purple, she knew, indicated no relation at all. Her first 10 jars had all been the color of eggplant. Blues were distant relations. Greens were somewhere around 2nd cousins. Yellow indicated 1st cousins. Gold was a direct link, as in, between siblings or between parents and their children. White was rare, as it indicated an exact match, as in identical twins, much like the Patil sisters, whose potions had indeed turned white and they were now giggling quietly among themselves.

She had considered the off chance that there might be someone distantly related through her muggle lineage. She couldn't be this closely related to anyone here. Could she?

Harry's attention had caught on the sudden shift of color and was now staring at her, bewildered. Two of his own jars had turned various shades of blue. One was an emerald green, even. Locking stares, neither breathed for a heart beat. Unable to move, She watched as Harry quietly reached across the table and rotated the jar to read the label.

 _Zabini. It's Blaise Zabini_ , her heart thrummed in her chest.

Slowly looking across the room, her eyes fell on the Slytherin two tables over. He and Malfoy were staring at her, eyes wide like they were waiting for her to say something, _do_ something.

Her temper suddenly boiling, Hermione stomped over to stand between the two, pulling her wand from her robes, staring the tall dark wizard down.

"You think it's _funny,_ do you?" she demanded. "What did you do? Put some of _my_ hair in the jar instead of your own?! Thought you'd have a laugh because the _mudblood_ couldn't _possibly_ be related to you?!" she pressed, her voice growing louder as the class stood by in shocked silence.

"But-" Blaise started, motioning to his jars. Hermione didn't follow the motion to see that one of his was also conspicuously a sparkling gold.

"You think you're SO special just because you're _pureblood_ ," she spat, "but you're NOT!" Hermione was yelling now. Blaise was glancing anxiously around the room, hoping someone would rescue him from the crazed lion in front of him.

 _Ahem_ , Draco cleared his throat. Hermione whirled on him, eyes flashing, daring him to speak. He cleared his throat again. "That wouldn't work," he started. "If Blaise put your own hair in, instead of his, the potion would have turned white," Draco offered, glancing over her shoulder to his friend. "And-"

"The potion is _wrong_ then!" she shouted, waving her wand in frustration.

"Hermione..." a hand gently rested on her shoulder, "Hermione..." Harry pressed again, when she didn't respond.

"WHAT!" she spun on her heal, ready to lash out at her best friend.

Seeing him wince, ready to take the verbal beating so she could vent, Hermione paused. Behind Harry, she could see Ron's mouth hanging open, frozen in shock. Next to Ron, Seamus tried, and failed, to look anywhere but at her. Looking around the room, she realized _everyone_ was watching her.

Shrugging off his hand, Hermione shouldered past her friends and returned to her station, busying herself with note-taking. She wasn't really taking notes, but she didn't want to continue the experiment with the rest of the potion jars, nor could she stomach packing up her things while the rest of the class watched.

Hair pouring over her shoulders and down to the counter, Hermione hid behind her curtain of unruly curls and focused on her breathing. _In_ , she inhaled, _and out_ , she exhaled. _In and out,_ she repeated to herself, gripping the quill in her hand to the point of breaking.

 _Damnit! Why won't they stop staring?! s_ he wanted to scream.

"Professor Slughorn, sir," Malfoy broke the silence, sounding to all the world like she had _not_ just thrown a hysterical fit of monstrous proportions, "I had a question regarding a passage in our textbook. Forgive me, but it doesn't seem to make any sense at all," he continued. "Could you take a look at it with me?"

"Oh. -Oh! Absolutely, Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn caught on, moving closer to lean over the text. "What seems to have you in a bind?"

Following their lead, the rest of the class filtered back to their stations, exchanging looks and quiet whispers among themselves. Harry offered her a small encouraging smile while Ron could still do nothing but continue to stare.

When the bell rung soon after, Hermione was the first one out the door before Harry and Ron had even begun packing up.

-

Hermione had skipped lunch after Potions but was in Charms class after.

To say she was focusing on her classwork was an understatement. She paid attention to nothing else in class. Harry quickly gave up trying to talk to her while practicing advanced disillusionment charms. Seeing as Hermione had perfected disillusionment some years back, she made a great show of pretending she needed the practice.

The end of Charms was another repetition of her exit from Potions class earlier in the day. This time, Hermione had picked up her bags and made to leave a full second before the bell had even rung.

-

Being done with her classes for the rest of the day, Hermione was content to lock herself in her room and consider just what exactly the results of the Homo Vitisquous potion meant.

Her first line of thought was trying to figure out how she had mucked up her own potion for it to give false results. But she knew she had followed the instructions to a "T" and even if it had been botched, she would have had various results from all the other jars as well.

IF her potion was wrong, that must mean that Blaise's potion had been brewed incorrectly. Though that was unlikely, as well. She always paid attention as her professor would walk around and critique the class's work. She knew that Slughorn had approved of both Zabini's and Malfoy's potions. Begrudgingly, she admitted that Blaise's potion was mostly likely fine. And it was too much of a coincidence that both of their potions were brewed in a way that they both came to the same result.

Her original conclusion in the classroom had been that Blaise had somehow snatched one of her own hairs and put it in their jar instead of his own hair. It didn't make sense why he would do that, though. He was a notorious Slytherin, and while his family hadn't actively participated in the war, he still held onto some, - _alright_ , a _large_ degree of blood prejudice. There would be no reason to fake their being related. Add to that, the potion would have turned white showing an identical match since the DNA in one strand of her hair would have the same DNA in another strand of her hair.

Then there was the jar of gold potion at Zabini's workstation as well. She knew for a fact that she had put only one of her hairs into the jar with her name on it. But that didn't line up with any of her conspiracy theories either.

Unable to think of any other way for the potions to be compromised, or a reason to compromise them in the first place, Hermione was not ready to face the alternative. However, with nothing else to occupy her thoughts, she delved into the very idea that she did not want to consider.

 _What if we_ are _related?_

Hermione lay on her bed, one hand across her stomach, staring at the ceiling above. She ran through the possibilities. Maybe their parents were related? But that would make them cousins. Maybe one of her parents had a twin sibling? A sibling that also happened to be one of Blaise's parents? Unlikely. And distressing. It was widely accepted that Zabini's father was most probably unknown. And she thought her parents would have told her about an aunt or uncle she might have had.

She didn't think her father had it in him to sleep around. That was just too disturbing.

Unless Blaise was adopted? That could be possible, she supposed.

Finally she had landed on the very thought she was trying to avoid. _What if_ she _was adopted?_ Oh sure, she supposed that Zabini could just as likely have been adopted. But she had slowly put together over the years that her parents had actually desperately wanted more children. She had heard her mother talking to one of her girlfriends one day when they thought she was upstairs. So Zabini wouldn't have been given up by her parents since they had always wanted two children. But Blaise's mother… she had been widowed seven times, and all surrounding a bit of mystery. And the ministry couldn't possibly let a magical child be adopted into a muggle home, right?

What was worse, she had no way of asking her parents about any of this. They were still in St. Mungo's with healers trying to restore their memories. It had been a couple months since she was able to track them down in Australia and bring them to the wizard hospital in London. One of the great positives was that being part of the Golden Trio meant that her parents were given every care and special priority. She sometimes felt ashamed to have used her fame in such a manner. But if her parents could be returned to her, then it would be worth it.

So far, it hadn't been worth it. In two months, they still had yet to make headway. She visited them every day in the beginning. But as the days went by, she started going every week instead. Having to walk through the same wards with Professor Lockhart and Neville's parents, her hope dwindled every time she walked by the other unrecovered patients with memory loss. Sometimes she was able to muster more courage, knowing that the Longbottoms and Professor Lockhart had lost their memories in different ways than her parents. Other days… well, best not to let the bad days win.

An overwhelming string of thoughts forced their way to the front of her brain and refused to leave. Blaise was somehow her sibling. And they were in the same year at Hogwarts. This was disturbing. The theories started to form a diagram in her mind. A) They shared a birth father (who may or may not have been the father she knew and loved -hopefully not.) B) They shared a birth mother (which wouldn't have been her mother since she knew her parents always wanted another child). A.1 & B.1) They were both adopted and separated at birth. B.2) Blaise's mother was her birth mother but gave her up for adoption. B.3) If they shared a mother, they either had birthdays 9-11 months apart, or they were fraternal twins.

 _Twins._

Tears she had been fighting all day finally escaped down her temples and into her hair.

 _Nothing you can do about it now, Hermione,_ she chided herself. The only way she could think of to start down this long road was to first brew another batch of Homo Vitisquous and somehow get Blaise to agree to test their DNA again. She still wanted to cling to the hope that their potions had been botched. Anyway, it was best to get the easiest explanations out of the way first. Their potions had probably just been tainted. Maybe. Hopefully.

_

A few hours later, crying her heart out for most of that time, found Hermione curled on her bed, trying to figure out exactly how she was going to be able to convince Zabini to participate in this experiment, when she heard a knock on her door.

Sitting up with a sniffle, "I'm fine, Harry. I'll see you in the morning," she called.

A short pause, followed by another, more insistent knock.

Groaning, she wiped her eyes and treaded to the door. "No really, Harry," she said, opening the door, "I'm not hungry and-"

But no one was there. Taking a short step into the hall, no one was in the hallway either.

Louder knocking this time erupted from within the room behind her, accompanied by "C'mon Granger! I know you're in there."

Hermione twirled around, very confused at this point, until she saw the door leading to the shared sitting room between hers and Draco's apartments. _Oh yea,_ she rolled her eyes.

"Granger!" he yelled. "D _on't make me_ _come_ _in there."_

Malfoy was now ceaselessly pounding on her door. Confused even more now that she realized it was _Malfoy_ knocking on her door, Hermione ran barefoot to the other door and flung it open.

-

She looked like shit, that was for sure. Her face was red, her eyelids were puffy and black streaks marked their way from the corners of her eyes to her hairline. _Eyeliner_? Her hair looked like its same old messy self, no change there. But now that she had actually opened the door, Draco wasn't quite sure what to say. Lowering his fist from where he had been knocking on the door, he settled on "Hi."

Raising an arched brow, she threw one hand on her hip while the other held the door open. "Hi?" she replied back, not sure what brought him to her door when most people were at dinner.

"Erm," Draco blinked quickly, erasing the dazed look from his face. "I was thinking we should talk about the Prefects meeting," he said, now consciously leaning against the doorway.

Hermione looked for another motive. She didn't think he cared so much about his Head Boy duties but she also knew he was a Slytherin, and was therefore unlikely to reveal anything until he wanted to. Deciding she would let this play out, "Uh, sure, why not," she agreed. "Let me change out of my robes quick and I'll meet you in there in 5 minutes?" A distraction might be good for her. She hadn't thought about her plan of action regarding the prefects, yet. And McGonagall wanted her to keep an eye on him anyways, right?

"Five minutes," he confirmed.

She waited until he had lazily moved from her doorway before closing the door, making sure she heard it click. She had checked the doors out last night before going to sleep. There was a locking charm on it allowing her to go in and out of the door connecting her room to the shared sitting room. But when she asked Harry to try, he was able to go from her room to the sitting room, but wasn't able to come back through after the door had been closed. _Alohamora_ hadn't worked, that's for sure. She had fallen asleep peacefully, trusting that McGonagall had probably thought to cover quite a few scenarios.

Rushing back into her room, Hermione changed out of her robes and uniform and into a simple t-shirt and pajama shorts. It was what she would wear to bed that night, but she didn't need to look good for Malfoy. He thought she was disgusting anyway. Might as well not let him down on that count.

After a quick splash of cold water to her face, Hermione returned back to the sitting room and took a spot in the corner of the couch, sitting with one leg under her, leaning against the armrest. Malfoy wasn't there. She didn't know why she expected him to just wait for her. He probably wanted to make a point of making her wait for _him_ , instead of the other way around. _G_ _it_.

It was then that he opened the door from his room, carrying one small plate of fruit and baked goods in one hand, while balancing another on his forearm.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you a wizard or not?" she asked, a shadow of the night before. Waving her wand, the plates hovered gracefully in the air, then gently flew to the far end of the low table in front of the couch.

Malfoy shrugged, leaving his bedroom door open and walked to the table. Bending down, he picked up one of the plates and held it out to her. "When exactly was the last time you ate?" he asked.

"Today," she answered smartly. Still, he held the plate in front of her. Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched the plate from his outstretched hand. The truth was, she hadn't eaten since breakfast and that was a fairly light meal because she was anxious to get to Transfiguration early, lest she start off the year being late to class with her Headmistress, of all people.

Having not had a full meal since perhaps breakfast yesterday before leaving for the train, Hermione picked up a muffin and tore in. _Blueberry,_ _yum_.

Amused, Draco picked a soft cookie to take a bite out of before asking, "So, what do we want to do with the prefects?"

"I'm not sure I follow. We need to make a rounds schedule, I know. What else is there really to talk about?" She finished inhaling her muffin and moved onto the stem of grapes on her plate. "What I need," she chuckled, changing the subject, "are some _fermented_ grapes. Today has been the day from hell."

"I have some in my room if you'd like," Draco offered.

Hermione stopped and looked at the Head Boy across from her. She had meant the statement to just break the ice. Well maybe not with Malfoy, exactly. She just meant to get a laugh at herself. Cocking her head to the side, she paused a second and considered. "Are you having some?" she asked. She wouldn't dare drink wine on school grounds in front of Malfoy if all he wanted was blackmail material.

"I think some wine sounds good right about now," he countered.

Not exactly an outright "yes."

Figuring that was as good of an admission as she would get, Hermione nodded mutely. Moments later, a bottle of wine flew through the air followed by two crystal glasses. Draco reached for the bottle and opened it with his wand. "This is from our vineyards in France," he explained as he poured the first glass and handed it to Hermione. "It's technically a dry red, but I still think it's pretty smooth."

"Smooth, like having a bottle of wine in your fridge?" she teased, taking a sip. _Oooh. It_ is _smooth_ , she thought, taking another taste.

"This was NOT in the fridge! This is meant to be had at room temperature," he griped, throwing his nose in the air.

Hermione's eyes widened, her glass halfway back to her lips. She was unsure what to say, and so said nothing.

"That was a joke, Granger," he said as he rolled his eyes. "We have ice if you want it."

"Oh. Right," she blushed. Not one to stand by and let him do all the heavy lifting, Hermione summoned ice from the small freezer in her room. _Much better._

"So… should we start with making a schedule for rounds?" she asked when Malfoy wasn't forthcoming.

"Sure," he shrugged. "I think we should take 2 rounds per week, maybe Sundays and Wednesdays or something? Give each house their own weekdays, and then rotate Saturday nights between the houses, what do you think?"

Hermione blinked, the wine glass cupped in both hands in her lap. "Uh, yea," she stammered. "That might work."

Draco snorted. "I have good ideas from time to time. Now which houses do you think should get each day?"

-

Hermione had reluctantly agreed to randomly assign the rest of the prefects' days. She thought they should be given a choice but had reluctantly went with Malfoy's idea when he pointed out that they would argue over who got first pick. This just cut out some of the nonsense.

"You came prepared, didn't you?" Hermione admitted as she wrote out the rounds schedule for the semester, balancing a book with some parchment on her knee.

"Always so surprised," he smirked, leaning back into the couch. "Oh!" he suddenly remembered. "And I think we should think of some kind of feel-good activity."

Hermione burst out laughing, nearly spilling wine all over her lap. "Feel good activities!" she coughed. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Malfoy?" she challenged, raising one eyebrow.

Draco's mood darkened. Crossing his arms, he scowled at the table between them.

Hermione hadn't meant it as an insult. She had let her guard down and forgot this was Malfoy she was talking to. _Prat,_ she swore in her head. Still, she had to work with the ferret all year.

Deciding she'd give him a chance and pretend she didn't notice his sour mood, she offered an olive branch. "Sorry, must be the wine talking," she smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

Malfoy glanced up at her, unsure if he wanted to continue.

"I don't know," he admitted slowly. "Like pop-up quiddich or something, I guess."

Hermione gave him a look like _Really?_

"Hey! I said I didn't know! Let the iddle prefects think of something."

Slightly annoyed, "You know you used to be an _iddle pweefect_ too, you know. But..." she considered. "But that's a great topic for our first meeting." She glanced back at the calendar in her lap. "Which reminds me, when should we schedule our first meeting? Tomorrow?"

Malfoy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Give 'em a couple days before saddling them with responsibilities, will you, Granger? How about the night after? Wednesday night. That'll give them two extra nights since that will be our night to do rounds anyways."

Hiding a grin, Hermione carefully scribed the meeting onto the schedule. If she didn't know any better, Draco was acting like a wet nurse compared to the usual Malfoy. Blushing, she wondered if it was really was just the wine talking. It was certainly starting to get to _her_ head.

"You're being awfully blasé about being Head Boy with me," Hermione leveled. "Why aren't you picking on my hair or writing home for your mother to demand I be replaced with someone else? Why are you being so _nice?_ "

Hermione's own eyes doubled in size as she smacked a hand over her mouth. _Did she really just say that? How much wine had she had?_ Eyeing her glass in her left hand, she was only halfway through her second glass.

Draco chuckled. "Are you going to accuse me next of spiking your wine, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione hadn't thought of that. "I don't know, _did you?"_ she demanded, grabbing for her wand.

Draco's face was no longer amused. Instead he sat very still.

"Did you. Spike. My wine?" She spat, pointing her wand. She should have known better than to let her guard down around a snake.

Another moment passed. The next words out of Malfoy's mouth would determine just how serious Hermione's hex would be.

Malfoy's face hardened. "Of course I spiked your drink, Granger."

She didn't know what she expected him to say but she wasn't expecting that.

Malfoy's anger rolled over his features like a Summer storm. "I was just counting on you asking for wine so I could slip some poison into it. In fact, I had so much forethought that I had some bottled up in France specifically with you in mind," he continued. "And then I drank some myself just to throw you off the trail because I had already drank the counter-potion before I even came in here. Before you even mentioned wanting wine."

Hermione watched dumbfounded, as Draco stood from the couch. "My whole life just revolves around _torturing you_!"

Draco snatched the bottle of wine from the table and retreated to his room, closing the door behind him with a quiet _snap_.

Hermione watched the door that Draco had disappeared through, wand still at the ready, waiting to hear any noise, any sound indicating that he might come back. Giving up a minute later, she shuffled through the door leading to her room. Holding the half empty glass in her left hand, she tapped it with her wand in her right to reveal any potions or enchantments.

Not finding any, Hermione gracelessly flopped onto her bed, and took a large gulp.

 _What a horrible day._

 _-_


End file.
